Rotten & Damaged
by Puddin's
Summary: Harley Quinn was a normal girl, once. Joker made her who she is today. As Harleen Quinzel slowly follows Joker down the rabbit-hole, what happens to Joker? Tells the story of Harleen becoming Harley, some Suicide squad, and Batman Adventures: Mad Love scenes. Told from Harley and Joker's POV's. Forewarning: deals with abuse. Harley/ Harleen X The Joker
1. Chapter 1- Honestly

_**Rotten & Damaged**_

A/N:

I do NOT own anything Harley Quinn, Joker, Suicide Squad, DC, or Warner Bros. This is a FANfiction. Thank you and this is going to be the one and only time I say it. I did not create this with the intent of copyrighting. Now enjoy my freakin' story!

* * *

Chapter 1- Honestly

I remember it all. How I met him. How I came to be who I am today. I remember it all. One thing I don't remember is how the fuck I came to love a clinically insane murderer with a penchant for cackling at inappropriate times.

To do this day if you ask me why I came to love my puddin' I'll tell ya the truth… I have no idea. It's just who I am at this point.

* * *

My high heels crack on the floor with each step. People know when I enter the Asylum whether they want to or not. I know I'm pretty and smart, that's what gave me my confidence. Nothing I wanted was ever denied… well, a few things. Say… a loving father, a perfect home, a… never mind.

I breeze past the receptionist's desk and walk into my office. I slam down the thick-to-almost-bursting manila folder I had been carrying and snarl, "Sit down!"

I pull out the large, glossy photos and point at the top one, "Are you fucking kidding me, Arkham?"

My boss sighs and shakes his head, "No, Harley, I'm not. Look, I knew you were fierce when I hired you, but if you could calm down a lit-"

"Calm down? Calm _**down**_? Oh yeah, Arkham, that's real easy ta do when I've been put on the feckin' Joker's case!" In my anger, my cover-up accent slipped, revealing my Brooklyn roots. I pace, "I want the publicity. I want the fame. Hell, I want the challenge. But Joker? I'm your newest recruit! What makes you think I can handle THE Joker?"

"You've got balls enough to scream at your boss when you're passionate. You've got balls enough to face this demon. Harley, in all honesty, you are the only person I trust enough and know enough to help him. If he's got the smallest chance in hell of recovery, you're the one to get him there."

"I appreciate the confidence booster, but my ego's large enough, thanks." I sigh, slipping into my chair. I roll my neck and brush a loose strand of blond hair behind my ear, "Fine. I'll take it. But I want a raise, Arkham. Joker is a big case."

He smiles at me, an emotion I barely see on his face: happiness. He nods, "Of course, Harley. Absolutely."

He goes to stand and I hold up a hand when my phone dings. I glance at the message and my blood boils, "Arkham? When do I start?"

He shifts uncomfortably and murmurs, "Today. In an hour." I tensely nod my head and signal him out of my office.

I start scanning through the many files on Joker. _**Name, unknown? They don't know his real name? How weird is that. Ok, focus. Look for clues on conditions and illnesses. How many of his doctors has he killed? All twenty-eight of them!? What the hell have I gotten myself into?**_

My alarm goes off on my phone and I grab my stuff. I shut off the alarm and make my way to Area 10, where we hold very few of our patients. Only the worst of the worst are housed here. I swipe my ID card, go through a metal detector, and check-in with a guard before making it to the correct room. #1077

While I wait for my newest to arrive, I review his information. Suddenly, the door slams open and I hear wild laughter. I see a flash of green and white and about ten guards carry a struggling body over to the table. I hear chains rattle as they sit him down and connect the chains to the heavy-looking cuffs on his ankles.

He's in a straitjacket and I have to stop myself from choking on my spit in surprise when he checks me out and smiles fiendishly. He chuckles, "Hey, darlin', ya here to talk to me or _**relieve some of my tension**_? I know you wanna pay _**special attention**_ to me. Am I right, _**Doctor**_?"

I look at the guards and order, "You can leave now. Shut and lock the door on your way out. Privacy is policy here."

The guards nod and walk out, I heard one mutter, "Good luck, lady. Hope you make it out so _**I**_ can pay 'special attention' to _**you**_."

I finally turn to the Joker and straighten my pad of paper before picking up my pen. I scribble down the date, time, and patient's name before starting, "Hello, , how are you today?"

He smiles wide, "Oh, I'm fantastic! Have you tried the 'Food for Good Prisoners' in the cafeteria? It's worth the taste, I have to say." He changes on the spot, smile curving down into a snarl worthy of a tiger. He growls loudly before snapping, "How do you think I am, doll? Look at me! I've been placed in a prison after spending years in a throne! How the hell would you feel, eh?"

I jot down quick notes before replying, "Frankly, I'd reach out to someone who is spending their precious time to try and help me. I wouldn't lash out over a question. Can we move on, or do you want to yell at me some more?" I feel empowered by my fearlessness. No one is going to get away with anything today.

Joker looks at me in apparent shock, He slowly smiles and laughs, slow and dripping with insanity. He finally speaks, "What's your name, Doc? It's been awhile since someone made me laugh. I like you. And none of my previous doctors can say that."

I shiver at the mention of his previous doctors, of which he killed all. I point to my nametag, "Dr. Harleen Quinzel at your service."

"Harleeeeen Quinnnnnnzel. Hmm, rework it a bit and you get Harley Quinn! Harlequin, the very spirit of fun and frivolity. A name that puts a smile on my face! You can understand, I'm sure, why I might be attracted to it."

I open my mouth, but he continues, "It reminds me… of someone who I can tell my secrets to." I smile and nod.

"You can definitely do that. I'll keep your secrets, ."

"Please, don't be so formal. Call me J."

"Mistah J, then." When I say it, my Brooklyn accent pulls out of my throat full throttle. He smiles and chuckles softly, something like I've never heard before.

"Say it again. I like that," he prompts me.

"M-Mistah J." What the hell? Why can't I say it normally?

He leans forward suddenly, "Oh, we're gonna have fun, Harley. I can see it in your eyes. You're just as crazy as I am."

"I'm nothing like you," I hiss evenly. I ignore the fact that he called me Harley, because it just feels right. And, if it'll get him to talk, then even better.

"Oh, darling, that's what the last psychiatrist said. And then she went insane and ran herself into a brick wall until she died. You're more like me then even she was." I shiver and tell myself it's from fear.

He leans as far as he can go and he whispers, "I like you, Harley. Do ya like me?"

I feel myself leaning towards the unstable man across the table from me. I stare at his blood-red lips and whisper back, "Not particularly."

I lean away quickly with a victorious smile as his eyes widen in shock. He sits down and I watch as those plump lips curve into a smile and peel apart to reveal his metal-covered teeth as he laughs. His neon green hair is messier than the pictures as he leans back. I watch him carefully. This might be easier than I thought. He's open to talking to me. I test my theory, "Can you tell me something about your childhood?"

His smile disappears, "So long as you keep my secrets secret-" I nod quietly and I'm ready for anything to come out of his mouth, "-then I don't see why not...

"You know, my father used to beat me pretty bad. Because I misbehaved, or sometimes I would just be sitting there and _**pow**_ _!_ My father was an alcoholic. The one time I actually saw him smile was when he brought me to the circus. I remember the clowns, one with his dog. His little dog would follow him around, tugging on his pants so it would fall down. He kept pulling them up and they'd fall back down. My father laughed so hard, I thought he would bust a gut!"

 _ **I wasn't ready for that. Anything but that.**_ We laugh together and he continues, "I wanted to make him happy. So, one time, I put on his Sunday pants. When he got home from a bar trip, I was waiting at the door. I had his pants around my ankles, 'Lookit me, dad!' I tripped and had the pants fall down. I ripped the crotch right out of the pants!" We laugh together, I'm crying I'm laughing so hard.

"And then he beat me. But that's comedy. You're always taking shots from people who just don't get the joke. Like my father… or _**Batman**_!" Suddenly, it was becoming clear in my mind. I had a chance to fix the unfixable. The only thing standing in the way of Joker's healing was Batman, our apparent saviour. He was a liar, though; I had always been suspicious.

I nodded, "I think that's enough for one session, Mistah J. Thank you. I never thought we would make such a big breakthrough in the first session. You proved me wrong."

He cackles, "Will I be rewarded, Harls?" A shiver ran up my spine, but I stood with my stuff in hand and went to the door. I knocked on the door and turned to him.

" **That all depends on how well you behave, Mistah J," my voice was husky. His eyes widened and his lips parted. The door opened and I walked away.** _ **What have I gotten myself into?**_

* * *

A/N: Alright, I hope you guys enjoyed this! Read & review; tell me what you think! I'll try to update multiple times a week, or once a week depending on my review, ok?

XO ~ Puddin's {formerly: Draco's Girl (C) Check out my other story, ok?}


	2. Chapter 2- Love You

Chapter 2- Love You…

It coils in my stomach and sits there as I walk into the room with way less confidence than yesterday: Fear. I see him daily, yes. Like that's not begging for insanity to come knocking on my door. But, I'm strong. Stronger than all of the other psychiatrists here in Arkham Asylum.

He looks up at me from the table, _**he was waiting for me**_ , and a snarl overcomes his face, "You're not wearing it."

I jump at the venom in his voice, "It's a little inappropriate for work, Mistah J. You'll understand that I can't come to work wearing lingerie."

He scoffs, "That wasn't lingerie to me, sweetheart."

"I brought it, though." His eyes light up.

"Ya gonna put it on? In front of me. My, my, I underestimated you."

"No," I answer, sitting down calmly, "So you can keep it and give it the next whore you meet. I'm not wearing this, period. And I never will. I'm surprised, though. You got my size perfectly. And how your men managed to get in my room was tempting my temper. You're lucky I woke up feeling better than I went to sleep."

He laughs, harder than I've heard so far, " You tried it on? Oh, do you have pictures for your dear friend, Mr.J? And I'm lucky, huh? You realize, I could kill you right now. I really could. But, you're just too much fun. I rather enjoy our time together."

"Shame, it's a little one-sided then," I'm a little cranky, but it's his fault. I throw the bag on the table and push the little thing over to him. It's black and red, in a harlequin style (ha ha, I get the joke). It's two pieces, a tight corset-like top that pushes up my tits and a thong. He sniffs the thong and grabs it in his silver-capped teeth with a smile. In a flash, it disappears.

"Ta da!" he exclaims.

"Where'd it go?"

"Why, you want it? I want the pictures." _**How did he know I took pictures? Careful, Harley, you give up power, he'll take more. But I really like the outfit. No, you make him beg. You told him you didn't want it. So, now you don't.**_

"No, I just wondered." I grab my pen and scribble down the usual information. I look up and he's staring at me. I smile, "Do you remember your real name, Mistah J?"

"No," he snaps. No smile, no laughter, just staring at me with a slight frown.

"Do you remember how you came to be… like this?"

"Yes." Hope rises in me and I poise my pen for the answer.

"Can I hear the story, Mistah J? I promise not to tell," my Brooklyn accent again, dammit. The excitement shows in my voice.

A small smile, but then he asks, "Why do you do that?"

"What?"

"That. Cover up that beautiful accent of yours to blend in."

"I don't like sticking out." _**Much.**_

He laughs, "It seems like it. Taking on _**THE**_ Joker's case, wearing high heels that make lots of noise, pretty blond girl that could've been a model but chose instead to become a psychiatrist. Oh yeah, you don't like sticking out alright."

I growl, low in my throat, "You don't understand."

"I could if you let me in. C'mon, doll, how hard can it be. I did it yesterday. I'll tell ya anything ya wanna know." He leans forward and I want nothing more than to nail him in the face. But, if I do this, it could be my big break. I can get all the information I desire.

"M-my father. He hated my accent. Loved my body, though. He would s-screw me and when I would scream for him to s-stop, he'd tell me it was a-all m-my fault. 'Your damn accent. Your damn t-t-tits. H-harley, b-b-b-baby, you should be happy that dad l-loves you so much.' Too much. No girl wants her father to love her like that. So, I covered up my accent and forgot about those times."

He stares at me with anger on his face. It clears and he snarls, "Here's your panties. You'll need 'em after today. Whore, I'm gonna fuck you until you forget all about your old daddy's touch."

"Why, you little-"

He stands up suddenly and I watch as the straightjacket falls off. The chains at his feet are unlocked and he walks around the table, "The cameras. They'll see you." I'm oddly calm, for a woman who may just get murdered. I stare at the now complete lingerie outfit again.

"Disabled. I have goons here, same as everywhere else." He grabs a handful of my hair and lifts me. He slams his mouth onto mine, sucking and biting my bottom lip until it starts to go numb. One hand fists in my hair and the other trails to my waist. He tears off my jacket and slips his hand under my red shirt.

He growls, "Respond, whore." I am responding. Just not that he can tell yet.

He pulls me against him and I feel his hard length pressing into me. He grabs my thigh in a deathlock and his tongue finds mine. Suddenly, I'm on fire. I'll die if I don't touch him.

I'm wild as my hands explore his neon hair, his hard-packed muscles, those glorious abs normally hidden behind the straightjacket, the hard form under his Arkham-issued sweatpants. He growls into my open mouth and it sends a shiver down my spine. I wrap my leg around his waist and he hoists me up, putting me down on the hard, metal table. The edge bites into my legs, but I ignore that. I pull back and stare into his blue eyes. They're lustful and wild, a smile plastered across his face. I lean forward, mere centimeters from his lips, when I whisper, "Sorry, but I don't want you, puddin'. This was a great distraction and all, but I think it's time we got back to work."

He cackles and presses me into the table, tearing apart my mouth with his own. I place my hands on his muscular chest and push, "I feckin' said no, J. That means _**NO**_."

I slam him away from me and grab my jacket off the floor. I point to his own 'jacket' and his chair, "Now, ya gonna sit in that chair and behave. I don't care how long it's been since ya've had a bang, you're not getting one out of me. I'm not a whore, and I sure as hell ain't ya bitch! Got it, Joker?"

He blinks in surprise and pouts. He grabs his jacket and slips it on, turning for me to buckle it. I grab the first set of buckles and snap it just as he spins, twisting the arms just right so we're pressed against each other. The buckle is still connected. He smiles and slowly leans down- _**he's so tall, and strong**_ \- until our foreheads pressed together. He pecks my forehead, "You're not a whore, Harls. You're not my bitch and you're not just a good fuck. I'm not one for behaving, but if that's what you want, that's what you'll get. I'll do anything for you, Harley. Remember that. I won't stop until you're mine." My heart pounds and my hands, pressed against his chest, feel that his heart is doing the same. He may be a liar, but his body isn't.

"Are ya sure ya want me, puddin'? I'm not exactly the type of gal you-"

"You're perfect, Harls. Abso-fuckin'-lutely perfect. Don't let anyone tell you different or I swear I'll kill 'em. I want _**you**_." He kisses my lips, soft and gentle to make up for his roughness earlier. I look at the straightjacket and figure a way out of it. I pull his arms over his head and buckle him in fully. I push him into his seat, mind going a hundred miles a minute, and bend down to lock his shackles around his ankles. I straighten and find Joker looking at me with lust and something else in his eyes.

He blinks, and it's gone. But I know it was there. I've seen that he is capable of emotion and it tugs at my heart. When did this happen? When did my feelings change? Suddenly, I'm hooked. He's my drug, my addiction, my source. He's everything to me, not just a patient. I shake my head, "You know, this isn't what I signed up for. If I had known-"

"You wouldn't have changed a goddamn thing because you enjoy this as much as I do." I don't want to agree, but I smile. A chuckle tumbles out of my lips.

"You're right. J, I wouldn't change a thing. I want you. But this is unprofessional. I don't know what to do with myself."

"Show me the pictures. Print it out, put them in an envelope, and give it to one of my lackeys. He'll be waiting at noon in your office. I'm eager to see it. Since we didn't get farther, it's the least you can do to help relieve me."

"I'm ya doctor, J- Mistah J, sorry. This- this is-"

"Oh so fucking right," he cuts in. He's staring through me, his blue eyes locked on mine. All of my doubts, they're still there, but they're smothered in this moment. Everything is ok as long as I stay with him. An emotion, startlingly clear, that I've never felt before, overcomes me and shoves me down. I'm small, delicate, a fucking flower, under his gaze. But it feels _**so**_ _**RIGHT.**_

I feel like the world could end right now and I would die happier than a little girl meeting her idol. I lean towards him, wanting to kiss him. I forget about everything. He smiles and leans to meet me.

And then, I hear a warning knock on the door. The slot opens and I watch someone's lips as the speak, "Time's up, Doctor Quinn. It's time to go." I peck his lips and lean away quickly.

"Ok, thank you. I'll just be another moment." I stare at J, unable to look away. It's like when you're watching cars crash together. It's a disaster, but you have to watch. As my world goes up in flames, I realize I like the feeling of chaos within my life of order. I stare at J, "You'll have the pictures."

He grins and leans forward to nibble my finger, "I'll be waiting for our next session to come around, Harley. I look forward to it greatly."

I walk away to the sound of his laughter. I make it to my office and plug my phone into my computer. I print out four of my best pictures and slip them into an envelope. Right on time, a nervous-looking man walks in. He has sunglasses and a green hat on. He growls, lowering his voice, "The pictures?" I hand him the envelope with Mr.J written on top. He gave me a shaky smile and whispered, "Why are you doing this? He'll use you and throw you away when he gets out. He wants a bang, not a girlfriend."

"You don't understand is all." I tell him quietly, "Now, be a good boy and do your job. That's it, good doggie." I giggle like a schoolgirl as he walks away, huffing. I tap my pen on my desk, going over my notes from the session with J. I hear a soft knock and look up, "Come in."

"Hello, Harleen. How are you? How have the sessions with Mr. Joker been going?" It's Arkham. I smile.

"I'm great, Arkham. Mr. J has been really open with me. It's going a lot smoother than I expected."

"Really?" Arkham, for the first time ever, looks stunned. I almost laugh, because I, Harleen Frances Quinzel, picture perfect psychiatrist, have stunned the un-stunnable Dr. Jeremiah Arkham. HA! Just goes to show…

He stutters, "I-I, you-you're you, but… H-how? I-I mean-"

I shrug my shoulders, "He likes talking to me. And I treat him with respect, like we're equals, instead of me being above him because I have freedom. I just… I understand him more than most. We- connect."

The door slams open and the guard gulps in air before panting, "Th-the J-Joker re-refuses to g-go in his cell, unl-less he sees Ms. Quinzel."

I frown and stand up, "Well, Arkam… duty calls. I've gotta get my patient into his cell. Nice talking to you; we can finish up later if you want." Arkham nods as I walk out and make my way to Joker's cell. I see a crowd, yelling and fighting. I push my way through to Joker.

"Mr. J! What are you doing?"

"Quinn! Hiya gorgeous!"

"Mr. J, get in your cell. I don't have time for this." I step forward, grabbing him by the straightjacket. I look around, "You can go. He's right outside his cell. I've got it from here." I glance at the cell number and almost laugh. 777, even though he's on the 10th Level. They walk away and suddenly, he's holding the pictures of me in front of his face.

"How did you get out of your jacket?" I ask, in awe.

He just smirks and stares at the figure of me in the mirror at home. He growls suddenly, "Dammit, Harls, I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight."

I smile and press my hand sneakily onto his growing bulge in his pants. It's hidden behind one of the arms of his jacket, but he responds immediately as I whisper, "Did I get ya all hot and bothered?"

He growls, sending a shiver down my spine, and mumbles, "It's just not fair."

He's not talkin to me, I realize that automatically, and refrain from asking him questions. I push him towards his cell and he walks. I sigh, "J, if you promise to behave… I'll reward you tomorrow in our session."

"Reward me how?" he asks with the most delicious smile I've ever seen on anyone.

I want to say 'anything'. I want to say 'whatever you want'. I want to say these things, but I know I'll lose more than I can give. Instead, I whisper, "Name something and I'll tell you if I can do it."

"You," I'm shocked by his answer, but also kind of saw it coming. That is, until he continues, "I want all of you, not just your body. I want your heart, your fucking soul. I want to own you, every single fiber of your being."

"You're never gonna _**own**_ me, but I can do the rest. Don't expect it automatically, though. It-it takes time."

"No, it doesn't. That's bullshit and you know it. If you can do it, it happens on its own. And it is automatic. I know. Because it happened with you. You own me. You are my life. You are my love. I'll never be able to say it again, because that's not who I am. But, right now, in this moment, I'm saying it. And you better fucking believe it, Harley Quinn. Because I need you, and it's dangerous." We sit down on his cot as we talk. I take in his bare cell as he hides my pictures under his pillow.

"I'm dangerous. I'm broken and used up and torn into so many pieces it's surprising I'm still standing. I'm dark, puddin' and I don't know if you truly want this." I stroke his cheek gently, pressing a finger to the 'J' near his eye. It's small, but I know the tattoo holds meaning to him. I'll ask him later to explain his tattoos. _**Later? You're sticking around? It's decided already? I mean… well, yeah, okay.**_

He leans into my touch and kisses my fingertip before pulling back and staring at me,"I'm not going to beg you to do this. If you can't do it, then fine. Don't waste my time and drag it out. Say it now and be done with it. Let me go and run away like the pussy most people are. You can't deal with this because it's too fucking real for you? Fine, leave. Leave and don't look back. But don't you even _**dare**_ drag it out just to stomp me into the dust. Because I will kill you if you do that. And it will break me, but I will do it. If I can't have you, no one can."

I take a deep breath, staring into the eyes of a psychopathic murderer. And I realize I've fallen in love. I'm in love with a criminal. I must be insane… but it feels so damn right.

"Ya want me? Ya want my soul; ya want my heart? It's all yours. _**I'm**_ all yours. But you break me, and I can't promise I'll let you. It's happened before and I'm too close to the edge to be pushed."

"I've got you, Harley. I'll never let you go. If I push you, trust that I'll either dive in after you or I'm waiting at the bottom. You're mine and I don't share. I also never let go. If you're mine, you're mine forever. Can you do that?"

"Yes," I'm not even surprised at my instantaneous answer. It's the truth. I'm his, and I'm never letting go. He's irreplaceable. He's my everything and it's all-consuming. I wasn't made aware that love could do this. Shouldn't there be rules? Shouldn't this be forbidden? This probably isn't healthy… it's verging on obsession and I've known him what- two days? This is bad. This is really not right, but-

I can't help it. This is perfection wrapped up in a red and black bow. This is good, despite it being bad. This is right, even though it should be wrong. I know it's crazy and unprofessional… but I've fallen in love with my patient.

He stares at me, blue mixing with blue. I need him. This is it for me. He's my one and only. Dammit, why him?

This is who I am now. I've dived into the deep end. I'm in love, "Hey, J? Can you say it for me one more time?"

I'm scared he won't understand, but he looks at me and I know he gets it. We're more similar than I want to admit. He smiles, silver grill shining and green hair slicked back, as he says the words I need to hear, "Harley, I love you."

"Love you too, Mistah J." I stand up and walk out of his cell, closing the door and leaving him sitting on his cot with a smile.

* * *

A/N:

In case you're wondering, "Hey, Puddin's, what the hell took so long?" Well, I told you I would update based on reviews… I got a lot of follows and favorites, but only one review. To Guest: Thanks for being the only one who thinks I'm worthy of a review! You made my day!

Sorry if it got a little fluffy. I know it's a little rushed, but I feel like it's kinda true. Their love is all-consuming. She's all in, cards on the table (pun intended), and completely head over heels. Harley would literally do anything for Mistah J.

Sorry if, in the last chapter, you couldn't see the names. Mr. J got cut out for some reason. Another side note, this chapter is noticeably longer. Sorry if it got repetitive… I was a little distracted. Tell me what you liked or disliked. If I get ten reviews, I will make a longer chapter. I'll have chapter three up next week. Review please!

XO ~ Puddin's


	3. Chapter 3- Comfortable Sins

Chapter 3- Comfortable Sins

A/N: Deals with rape. If you can't handle this, then move to the next line.

* * *

"Harleen!" I hear the yell seconds before the figure appears, "What the hell? You left without me?" I'm shaking and sweating.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't m-mean to I thought…" I'm so scared, I can hardly breathe.

"Daddy has to punish bad girls," he smiles and my blood runs cold. Shit.

My mind shouts something frantically, but I cannot hear over the sound of my fear and blood rushing.

"No please!" My accent is back, "Please, leave me alone! Someone help!"

His big, meaty hands grab my small shoulder and push. I find myself on a couch in the basement. He's smoking, drawing in a deep breath and his eyes are red. His bald head shines in the low lighting. He stares at me hungrily. I look down and shiver.

My hands are tied together by my shirt and held down on the couch arm. My pants are off, attaching my shirt to the leg of the couch so I am thoroughly strapped to the couch. There's a sock stuffed in my mouth. I gag around it and he walks over, unzipping his pants.

I want to scream, but I can't. I'm crying, tears flowing down my face. I know what happens next.

This moment is a scene in a horror movie; the man getting relief before killing the young, helpless girl. His hardened stick of abuse is at the entrance to my core. I shake my head, no, my blond curls whipping back and forth.

He smiles and grabs my hips. In one movement, he is in me. He is filling me and pumping over and over. He stretches me and doesn't stop to let me adjust.

"Oh, baby you're so tight! Dad wants to fuck you hard! Oh, Harleen, baby!" He yells, licking the shell of my ear. He hits the back and pulls out, only to slam back in harder than before. I scream against the sock.

He pulls out the sock, "That's right, scream for Dad! Oh, Harleen!" He digs his nails into my hips and slams into me. I hear skin slapping against skin and my body rocks with the force. I clench my teeth together, trying not to make a sound.

He moans into my ear, moving his hips against me. "Harleen," he groans.

In and out, he moves my hips so I am moving against him. He moves my legs onto his shoulders, so he can fuck me harder, as if he needs to. Using one hand to grip my hip, the other squeezes my ass, "Harleen, moan for Dad! Oh, Harleen, come on baby! Make Dad cum!"

I don't and he slaps me across the face, "Moan, whore! You piece of shit little slut! Fucking moan or I'll kill you!"

He pumps in and out a few more times, hitting the back of my core and panting. I tighten my legs, meeting my hips to his and forcing a moan. He slams harder and faster. He moves so he can go in even harder and even faster and I feel myself rip. He shoves himself up into me over and over until I think it will never end.

"Speak! Tell me you love this! Say you want it!"

I cry, shaking as he pounds into me relentlessly. I'm bleeding, I can see the red. I cry out in pain as he leans down to bite my nipple as hard as possible. My voice shakes as I lie, "I love this! I want this!"

He smiles and slams into me, "Oh, baby, Harleen! Tell me to cum! Call me Daddy, you whore! You sick fucking bitch!"

I swallow bile as he makes me move against him, up and down on his dick. "Cum! Oh, _**Daddy**_!" His erection becomes impossibly harder when I utter that word.

He yells, moving in and out of me frantically and forcing my hips to piston against his with his hands, "Oh, baby! Oh, Harleen, don't stop! Oh God! Harleen! Harleen! OH, Harleen! DON'T STOP! DON'T STOP! OH, HARLEEN! OH, GOD, HARLEY! DON'T STOP!"

He called me Harley. That's different, but he seems to like the shortened version of my name. He pounds my flesh as he reaches the edge. He takes the plunge and yells one last thing, using his newfound nickname, as I feel hot liquid filling me up, "OH, GOD, _**HARLEY**_!" His eyes glaze over as he collapses.

He moves out of me and shoves two fingers in me. He curls and flicks them, torturing me more while he can't. He grabs my shoulder with one hand and presses me downward as he shoves up into me harder than I thought possible with his fingers. I yell in pain and he smiles.

He bends and licks blood and cum off of me. I almost vomit as he licks his lips with a disgusting smirk.

The pain finds me when he stands up, taking his fingers out of me. He smiles one last time, "Oh, Harleen, you're such a good little whore."

He leaves after tearing my shirt that held my hands. That is the only good thing he ever did, setting me free before leaving the room.

I sob quietly in the loneliness, standing up. I feel numb from the waist up in comparison to the pain below. White liquid drips from between my legs, mixing with red on the cold cement floor. Blood and cum.

I find clothes by the door and put them on.

* * *

I sit up and feel hot tears snaking down my face. I'm shivering and I sobbing so hard I can barely breathe. I turn to my alarm clock just as it goes off, telling me to get ready for work. For once, a shiver of anticipation does not run up my spine at the thought of Joker.

I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. I throw my hair into a neat bun, pull on some clothes, grab my purse, phone, and keys, and I leave. I walk into the asylum sans my usual smile. My face feels hot. I go to my office, drop off my stuff, and grab Joker's file. I march straight to our session room.

He's there. I expect to feel something… but I don't. I'm numb. There's a pinprick of feeling buried deep inside. His blue eyes crinkle with a smile before narrowing with suspicion and concern. _**Concern? They said he didn't feel anything. How wrong they were…**_

"Harley, what happened?" he's on alert. I didn't think he would pick up on it that quickly.

"No hello?" I question dryly. I sit down and he growls.

"Harls, speak to me. Tell me what's going on." I'm shocked at the concern in his voice. It's like he's flipped a switch and become the boyfriend every girl wants. Concerned, caring, gentle, kind, and he's listening to me like his life depends on my answer.

In a moment of weakness, I slip, "I had a nightmare… about when my father raped me. I had been goin' to the door. He found me with a bag or so of my stuff. He asked why I left without 'im. He told me had to punish me for bein' bad. He brought me to the basement and did horrible things to me. I was bleedin'… I was scared… so scared… so alone… so-"

"God, Harley… I'm so fucking sorry. I wish I could make it all better, but I can't." I shake my head, jarring loose memories.

' _ **God, Harley. You're so good. So gorgeous. Oh, Harley…'**_ I feel tears on my hot, red face. I'm stronger than this, dammit. He stands up and wakes towards me, but I don't even notice. My head is bowed, tears rocketing down my face as if they are racing. I feel someone moving me and the tears flow faster, "No… no, please, don't."

"Shh… I've got you. It's alright, Harley. I've got you Pumpkin."

He sets me on his lap, stroking my hair delicately. He places a kiss on my neck and growls gently, "I'll never let him hurt you again, Princess. I promise." I don't want promises. Promises are broken without a single though. Promises are broken and bent until they are no longer recognizable. Promises get you hurt.

 _ **Hurt equals pain, pain equals ache, ache equals sorrow… sadness, pain, hurt, ache… don't! Please, don't! Don't hurt me! Stop!**_ I'm crying harder, shaking against his strong chest. I feel his lips on my neck again and a flash of memory slams into my head.

"No more," I whisper, "Please, no. No, don't. Stop. No more, Dad. I'm sorry."

"I'm not him, Harley. Harley, calm down. Let it go through you. Let the memories slide past, don't dwell. Let the voices speak, sweetie, let them tell you-"

"No, they're angry… They scare me, the voices. The aren't nice. They bring back the memories… I'm not used to them, they shouldn't be here."

"No, no, it's okay. The voices help you be like and understand me. They know what has happened; they help you get over it. They help solve your problems, Pumpkin Pie."

"No," I moan quietly, "They hurt me. The voices, they hurt me, they tell me things that I don't wanna hear, things I don't wanna f-feel anymore."

" _ **Harley**_ ," I realize now he's been trying to get my attention this whole time. I turn to him, locking blue eyes with his own.

"Wh-what?" I cry, trying to slow my tears and choke back my sobs.

"Let them speak to you for a minute, you need to remember so you can move on. You need to realize that I'm not going to treat you like that. I know I'm making promises, but as you'll soon learn, I keep mine. I don't make promises I wouldn't keep; I'm not like the rest of the world Harley-girl."

"I can't trust people. I've been hurt by empty promises too often. I can't take it if you do it too. I can barely trust myself, how can I trust you or the voices you want me to listen to?" I feel his hand stroking the back of my arm and jump. I'm shaking, the touch reminding me- _**hurt, pain, 'Dad', ha! Daddy… oh, Harley, you filthy whore. No, no, naughties. You're the good girl, Harley-girl, not bad.**_

 _ **Harley, Harley, Pumpkin Pie,**_

 _ **Dontcha wanna be all mine?**_

 _ **I'm Mistah J, I'll let you know…**_

 _ **I'm not the kind to let you go.**_

 _ **I'll tie you up and let you in,**_

 _ **I'll make you die and come back for the win.**_

 _ **Harley, Harley, Pumpkin Pie,**_

 _ **You know that you're purely mine.**_

I take a deep breath and turn to Mistah J, "I can't. Don't you understand? I can't do this."

"I thought you were stronger than this, Harley-"

"Well, I'm not! Okay? I'm not! I told ya that! I told ya I'm broken! I warned ya ya wouldn't like this; that ya wouldn't like me! I told ya, didn't I? I told ya… I always… I told ya. I"m not meant to be strong. I'm not the gal ya need, Mistah J. I'm not right."

He leans forward and presses a kiss to my cheek. I pull back quicker than a hammer on a gun and leap up. I grab my stuff and walk to the door. I stand by it and wait for him to get his straight-jacket back on. He says one last thing before I leave the room, "You're wrong. And you are perfect for me." I shake my head and walk out, cutting the session short.

I stop by Arkham's office, face red and puffy, and tell him I'm sick. I get into my car and slam my palms against the steering wheel about five times. I scream and cry and tear at my hair. When I leave the parking lot, I'm a worse mess than when I came in this morning. I sniffle quietly as I walk into my apartment. What I find forces my blood to heat.

There's a man with a clown mask waiting in _**my**_ apartment. It's Joker's work and I know it. I sniffle once more and snap, "What'dya want? No, sorry, what does Mistah J want, eh?"

The man hands me a note written in green pen in a sloppy, yet somehow neat at the same time, writing. Why it's in all CAPS, I have no idea:

 **HARLEY,**

 **I KNOW YOU DON'T WANT TO HEAR THIS, BUT YOU NEED TO. SOMETIMES, YOU NEED A LITTLE PAIN TO FORCE YOU TO FEEL RIGHT AGAIN. PAIN IS PLEASURE, AS I'M SURE YOU'LL FIND OUT WITH ME.**

 **SOMETIMES, ALL YOU NEED IS A PUSH. INSANITY IS LIKE GRAVITY THAT WAY: ALL IT TAKES IS A LITTLE PUSH TO SET IT INTO MOTION. WELL, PUMPKIN, THIS IS YOUR PUSH. I'M SORRY IN ADVANCE. PASS THIS TEST, HARLEY-GIRL AND ALL YOUR WISHES WILL COME TRUE.**

 **LOVE,**

 **MR. J :)**

I look up at the man in confusion… to be met with a punch in the face. The man chuckles softly and drags me, kicking and screaming quite literally, to my couch. He shoves me down and forces a mask onto my face. I realize too late what it is and close my mouth and nose, but the gas is in.

It's a very mild version of Joker's classic Laughing Gas. I snarl at the man before a smile spreads across my face. The man grabs a fistful of my hair and takes off the mask in one movement. He pushes a leather strap in between my teeth and pulls my head up so my neck is exposed. He pulls out a taser and tases me. I find it funny, because of the Gas, and let go of the strap. I laugh at the man, loud and happy. I feel the electricity coursing through my body again and laugh. I throw back my head, relishing the moment. I figure out that the Gas has a new Gas thrown in, something for lust.

I wrap my legs around the man's waist and watch his Adam's apple dip up and down as he swallows. I lick my lips and he slams the taser against my neck again. I moan, baring my neck for more. I feel myself getting wet. I close my eyes and the voices flood my head, _**Oh, what if this was J?**_ A flood of wetness rushes- _**Ooh, wonder what it would feel like if he fucked you while doin' this! Wouldn't that be great? Pain is pleasure, Harley-girl. Joker will be very happy, dontcha think?**_ I nod to myself and the man tases me again.

I laugh, "Dontcha wanna play with me? C'mon, play with me!"

The man shakes his head, "Mister J told me if I touch you with anything other than the taser or my hand, I would die. I'm just doing this for money, lady."

I nod, "Then hit me again." I feel the sting as he slaps me. I close my eyes and take it. If I can survive rape, this is nothing. If I can survive this, than I am as strong as I thought I was. This is a test, remember? Pass this, and you get Mistah J.

I take the beating and remind myself of this everytime I think I can't handle it: _**You are strong. You are the Joker's Harley Quinn. You are his, and this is his test to make sure you can handle him.**_

After a certain point, I don't need the reminder. After a while, I realize it is me telling the man to hit me and tase me. After a while, I realize pain is pleasure, and J was right. I am wrong, and I am perfect for him.

I stand up and punch the man. I grab his taser and tase his balls. I giggle and tap his head with my toe as I walk past. I'm going to create some mischief. I do my makeup quickly, not caring about smudged eyeshadow, and put a red dress on.

I prance along the streets, high heel boots clicking against the cement. I twirl about and laugh. I feel free. The pain did this to me. I don't hear the voices… until they slam into my head with a fury.

 _ **Harley, Harley, Jokey would be so proud! Dontcha wanna make 'im proud?**_ I nod to myself and turn to one of the people standing on the sidewalk. He leers at me, his eyes taking in my dress, my blond hair, and my makeup.

I walk to him with a sly smile, "Hey, cutie! How ya doin'?"

"Just fine now that you're here, sweetie." _**Sweetie. That's J's nickname.**_ A flash of anger. _**What would happen if you hurt him? Hurt him, cause pain to him like all guys cause you- except J, so far**_

I smirk and trail a finger down his jawline, his brown eyes resting on me. He runs a hand through his plain, black hair. I lean forward and kiss him on the mouth, biting his lip. I taste blood and he pulls away, wiping the blood and staring at it, "Jeez, hon, don't you think that's a little much-"

"No," I giggle, "Not yet."

I press my hands to his chest and roam. I find a concealed knife and pull it out, "Ooh, you brought me a present!"

"No, that's-" I shush him and press the knife to his neck.

"Did you know, you can really tell how kind a person is by looking them in the eye while they have the opportunity to hurt you? Unfortunately, I'm not very kind."

"No! Please don't! I-I'll pay you! I-"

"Shh, shh, shh! Please, be quiet; I'm trying to listen."

I press a finger to his mouth and the knife to his neck. I listen carefully to the voice before shaking my head, _**Wrong, wrong! You're wrong! He wouldn't want me to… I'm not goin' to!**_

 _ **C'mon Harley, don't be a pussy. Make him scream. Give the pretty people a show.**_

 _ **But I could get arrested… Then I couldn't see J anymore and this would be for nothin'.**_

 _ **C'mon Harley…**_ "NO!" I yell aloud. The man, who had been sobbing, stops and stares at me with wide eyes. He starts shaking, I can feel the movement through the knife hilt. I stare him down and move the knife. He breaths a sigh of relief before I punch him in the face as hard as I can. It feels good to get out all my pent-up feelings in that one solid swing.

I turn and walk away, leaving the man on the cement. I walk down the street with the knife concealed in my high heeled boots, aiming to go nowhere and everywhere all at once. My thoughts run wild, crashing into one another as the voices break free and talk away. They tell me things I don't want to hear, but can't help but acknowledge. The what if's and should do's force me to think about things…

What if I had some more fun?

* * *

A/N:

Yeah, yeah… I know I'm late. I've been a little busy. So, this chapter is not longer than the previous chapter, but is longer than the first chapter. It's no longer, because I did not reach my goal of ten reviews… Sorry, to those that did review in favor of longer chapters.

But, I did continue the story, so you can't say that I completely disappointed you. Anyway, ten reviews on this chapter and I'll do a _**MUCH**_ longer chapter four. Any tips or 'I want you to do this with the next chapter' will be much appreciated. If you guys want something, I'll make sure to add that in!

XO ~ Puddin's


	4. Chapter 4- Bulletproof Love

Chapter 4- Bulletproof Love

I stretch in my cell, joints popping and skin stretching over muscles. I groan and step towards the cell door. _**Today's the day. Chaos… will ensue… These bitches won't know what's coming. My Harley will… I hope…**_

I smile and grab the bars. This is going to be fun. I watch my guards, their fake confidence mixing with testosterone to produce a 'manly' looking walk over to me. I smile wider, "Well, hello! How have you guys been. I heard it's… absolutely great outside today."

"Shut up, clown!" One of them barks. They get to my cell and one signals for the door to unlock. It does and he reaches for the door. I want so badly to grab his hand, bring it up, and bite. I move myself backwards, remembering. Now is not the time. _**Today… Chaos comes later… Behave… Harley…**_

The men rush my cell and push me to the ground. Anger sparks, igniting a rage in me. I smile, "Bad move, asshats."

I roll slightly so I'm on my back with my legs lifting. Using the momentum, I push; straightening my legs into a powerful kick at the unlucky face of guard number one. I hear the crack as blood pours from his nose. Pushing off from his face, I roll completely, springing to my feet, "This is fun, guys, but I think we should get going. I have a meeting, you see."

I spread my arms wide, watching the guards. I growl and snap my teeth together, before putting my hand on my mouth. It shows a wide grin tattooed onto my skin. I chuckle slightly, removing the hand, "So, the choice is yours… end up like your friend, or bring me to my meeting _**without**_ bloodied faces. So what's it gonna be?"

Being the bitches they are, they wanted to be bloody…

* * *

*Harley*

I hear him before I see him. There is a chill to the air that warms around me when I hear the cackles of insanity bubbling from him. _**J's comin'! Oh, boy, J's comin', Harley!**_ I pat my pockets, making sure it's still there. I have a present for him.

I realize something is off when I hear the gurgling of liquid as he coughs afterwards. I stand and face the door when I hear footsteps, keys, and chains. The door opens and it's like the first day all over again, but it's so different it hurts.

Two people stand to each side, holding J's arms. One other guard has J lifted onto his shoulder, holding onto him much too tightly. I gulp when I spot the bruises that dance along J's face. All three of the guards have cuts and bruises scattered among the tattered remains of their clothes.

"What the hell happened?" I ask. I notice Joker has not got his straightjacket on, but I don't comment on that.

The guards set him in his seat and the one who had been lifting J replies angrily, "We got into a fight with Clown-boy here, dollface. He may be a little loopy, 'cause the doctors gave him a little something to keep 'im calm."

"What about antibiotics and pain relievers? You said it yourself, you got into a fight. He has a split lip and it sounds like he has something wrong with his lungs or ribs. If he is injured, which he clearly is, he should be in the hospital wing so he can be properly treated."

"We tried, angel. He wouldn't calm down until we said we would bring 'im to you."

"Give us fifteen minutes and then knock," I order, pointing towards the door, "So scat."

They walk out of the room, throwing dirty looks at J the whole time. I smile at him, putting him at ease as the door locks behind the guards… before I explode, "What the hell, J? Ya wouldn't calm down for the doctor ta treat ya? Ya realize with your injuries, you could very well-"

"Die, yeah, I know. But I needed to see you, Pumpkin." He stands up, walking towards me with a look in his eyes that I have never seen before. It was hungry and dominant; it captivated me and put me on the spot.

"Puddin'," I spoke softly, not wanting to break this moment, "Ya need to be alright. I need ya to be okay. Dontcha understand? I need ya. I can't lose ya."

"I know, Harley-girl. I know," he stops in front of me, looking me in the eye. I look at his exposed chest, seeing so many tattoos. There are blank patches of skin that I want to cover with my own marks. I want to- shit, he's coming closer.

He bends down, taking my face in his hands, "I missed you, Doc. I-I…" I've never seen him speechless, "I need you, Pumpkin."

I take something out of my pocket, trying to hide my shaking hands. He smiles delicately and I hear the liquid gurgling in him. It squeezes my heart, the instantaneous pain of knowing he's standing here with me instead of getting help, "So thoughtful. You know I live for these moments with you. Whaddya got for me, Doc?"

I pull it out and show him the little grey and white stuffed kitten. I squeeze the middle, moving its paws about. He smiles and reaches toward it, before he starts coughing. He falls to his knees, clutching the kitten to his stomach. I scream, tears rushing down my face as my thoughts choke me. _**He's dying! He's dying and it's all your fault! If he dies, Harley, I will never forgive you! You fuckin' bitch, save him!**_

I scramble to the door and knock, glancing back at him. He groans, "Harley, stop screaming. It hurts-"

"I know, I know. I'm getting help, Puddin', I promise. I have to yell a bit more; I'm sorry."

I slam on the door, "Open the fuck up! My patient is dying because you slow asses won't move!"

I hear the keys and I run to J's side, "Ok, J, they're gonna take you to the hospital wing. I'm coming with you and I won't fuckin' leave until you're gettin' better. You fuckin' die, though, and I'm gonna bring you to life just to kill you again. Understand?"

"Yeah, sweetie, I get it. Now, can you do me… ugh, one… eensie-weensie favor?"

"If you live, anything. I mean, yeah." _**You'll do anything for him and you know it. Don't pretend… You know you'll do whatever the fuck he asks.**_

"Get me a… machine gun. I n-need one. Don't ask questions, please, just… can you do it?"

"A-a machine gun? I… I guess… If you live, I'll bring you one."

"Good girl, baby. Now, just g-go to the lo-local gunshop and ask for a M-Mr. Frost. Tell him J-J sent you and he'll give you wh-what you need. Thank you," he smiles at me and it tastes like happiness when I press my lips to his.

The door slams open and I scramble away, shouting, "What took ya lazy asses so long? He's fuckin' dyin' because you dipshits don' know how ta work!"

"Shut up, Doctor! We're workin' now!"

I stand up, growling, but they set him on a stretcher and wheel him out. I can't leave him until I know he's being cared for, so I follow them quickly. When we get to the medical wing, I describe to the doctors there what I think is wrong and my understanding of the situation. _**Oh, these motherfuckers are gonna regret it. Imma talk Arkham into havin' 'em fired! Ooh… even worse,**_ I'll _**deal with 'em! Yeah… as soon as possible. Revenge… avenge Mistah J…**_

"Doctor Quinzel? He's gonna be okay. We're fixing his ribs. If you hadn't made sure he was brought here, he'd be dead by now. I think you should go home, now. He's on his way to recovery. He'll be in here for a day or so and then he'll be good as new. He has a very advanced healing factor from something in his past… which I've requested to analyze and study-"

"No, he's not a lab rat. Whatever happened to him, I'm pretty sure was a one-time deal. Some things happened in just the right order, ya understand?"

"I don't think I do, but if you insist on-"

"I do. Now, I think I will go home. If I find out you were testing on him, I _**will**_ have you fired. Understood? He's my patient, and what I say in reference to his care is the law. Okay?"

"Yes, Dr. Quinzel. I understand."

"Good. Now, Mistah Joker, you behave and let the doctors fix you up." I direct my instructions at J, letting him know I'm leaving.

"Alright, Doc. Anything for you," he breathes, smiling up at me. He's on some serious pain meds and he's definitely doped up. I smile and walk away, making my way to my car.

 _ **He'll live. He's on his way to recovery. That means you have to keep up on your end of the deal. Time to go gun shopping.**_

I climb into my Jeep, turning the key in the ignition and making my way out of the parking lot. I stop at a stop sign and a gloved hand shoots out from the backseat to cover my mouth. I turn slightly and spot him- the Bat, _**What the fuck is he doing in my car? Is he going to-**_

"Hello Dr. Quinzel. You treat the Joker, correct?" his hand slides off my mouth as he glides into the passenger seat.

"Yes. But why does that concern you at all? I'm treating him. He's in Arkham Asylum. There is no reason for you to be hiding in my backseat to ask me questions about my patient. You could have simply stopped in during my hours at the Asylum if you wanted to question me on how his treatment is going."

"Oh, but I'm not here to question you on that. You see, Joker has a way of getting his doctors to help him escape. They think they're helping him with his recovery, but really they're setting a trap for themselves."

"Well, it's a good thing I don't fall for bullshit, now isn't it? Speaking of bullshit, if you would make your way out of my Jeep, that would be fan-fuckin'-tastic."

"We'll be in touch, Ms. Quinzel."

"Doctor Quinzel to you, Batsy!" I yell after him as he exits.

I grumble to myself endlessly as I drive home. I walk in, and change into more casual clothes. Then, I walk back out and go to the local gunshop J mentioned: The Lead Smile.

I find a salesman and tap his shoulder, "Hello Miss, whatcha lookin' for?"

"Umm… can I see a Mistah Frost? It's mighty important."

"Right away, Miss." He goes to the back and a moment later, a sharply dressed man walks out.

"What can I do for you Miss…"

"Harley Quinn. Joker sent me."

"Ah, you're the lucky woman. Right this way. What does he want?"

"A-a machine-gun. One that I can sneak into my work," I reply unsteadily.

"I've got just the thing," he hands me a machine-gun that feels much lighter than it looks. It's ironically the same bright green as J's hair. He twists a few parts and it dismantles into three separate pieces, "That should do the trick. What do you think?"

I look at the handsome man and grin, "I think we just made J the happiest man in the world." Jonny Frost smiles and nods.

"Now, because you're J's girl… that gun is free."

I don't correct Jonny and tell him I'm his doctor. I let the words flow over me and instead, I smile and wink at the man, "Well thanks, sweetheart. I'll tell J you gave me a great discount!"

He smiles back at me and sets the three pieces in a case which is specially formed to fit it. I walk out with the case and a smile from ear to ear. _**J'll be so happy!**_

I go home and place the case next to my bag that I bring to work. I shimmy out of my clothes and pick out an oversized sweatshirt that I set on the closed lid of my toilet seat. I wash off my makeup and take a relaxing bubble bath. The steam that rises out of my tub smells like honey and vanilla with a dash of cinnamon. There is barely a hint of roses, but you can tell it is also there. I let the aroma soak into my skin, leaning back and listening to the music from my phone.

As it transitions into the next song, it switches onto a different playlist. I smile as Pierce the Veil's 'Bulletproof Love' comes on. I sing along with it as the song carries into the chorus, "My love for you was bulletproof, but you're the one who shot me!" The lyrics mesh into my mind until they are all I can hear. I chuckle softly to myself as my mind repeats the lines over and over. _**Bulletproof… you're the one… shot me… love for you was… but… who… my… My love for you… was bulletproof… but you're the one… who shot me…**_

"Oh, Mistah J!" I giggle, "My love for ya…"

"Whaddya mean, Mistah J? You love me too? Aw, J that's awful sweet a ya. I never knew ya felt that way abou' me."

I giggle and stand up, unplugging and draining the water as I step forward to grab my towel. There's green writing on it that says:

Love is sweet, until it is bitter. Then, it is no longer love but a lost friendship. I pout, "Now, that's awfully sad for a towel. Why the hell did I buy it?"

I wrap myself in the towel, drying myself slightly. I lotion my body with the same scent as my bath and inhale it as I spread the creamy substance over my skin. I pull on a pair of underwear and my blue and red sweatshirt. I sigh, feeling the thick fabric, "Man this feels like heaven. Now, maybe some ice cream with a hot brownie to finish off the night, eh?"

I call up a little dessert place and order just that. It delivers in minutes and I pay the man an extra tip. I sit on my couch with a fuzzy blanket across my lap,"This is fuckin' livin'. I just need a dog or a cat and Mistah J and I'm set!"

I giggle to myself, imagining J asleep with a fuzzy buddy curled up between his feet on my purple couch. It's too damn cute, what I'm imagining. And I want it. I want it as much as I want to breathe. It is a necessity and I almost can't bare to wait for it. Tears prick my eyes and I shovel another bite of my treat into my mouth. _**It's just not fair! Other gals get to stay up late with their boyfriends, talkin' about nothin' important and pettin' their precious fuzzy angels! I fuckin' want it! I want it, I want it, I want it!**_

I set the empty bowl to the side and curl up under my blanket. It's not fair. But, at least I get to see him tomorrow. And the sooner I sleep, the sooner I-

* * *

I wake up to my alarm clock going off. I stretch, yawning, and shove off my blanket. _**Time ta see Mistah J!**_ I smile to myself and get ready. I pull on a blue blouse and dark jeans with ankle boots. I put my hair into a neat ponytail and do my makeup. I grab my stuff, check myself in the mirror one last time, and head off to work.

Today is going to be a really good day. I can feel it. It is tangible, the feeling of greatness that sits in the air today. I catch a whiff of my lotion from last night as I climb into my Jeep. I check to see if I have J's present, and then I head off for Arkham Asylum.

I pull in fifteen minutes before my daily session with J. I go straight inside to my office. I drop off my bag, putting my folders into J's case. I flip the filling that holds his gun, taking it from the top part and putting it on the bottom before placing the gun parts in. I then place the original bottom on top of that. Then my files, folders, notebook, and writing utensils on top of all of that. If they wish to search my briefcase, that is all they will find: the normal things that hide above the abnormal.

It's poetic in a way.

I walk briskly to the session room and find J waiting as normal. I smile at him as the guards close the door without a second glance at my 'briefcase.' I pull out my stuff and examine J closely. I find a bandage taped to his face, a few scattered bruises, and the straightjacket that contains him, "I thought your healing would take longer-"

"No, no. I'm special, remember?" he winks at me as he murmurs seductively. He glances at my case with a longing in his eye and I can't wait any longer. I have to know if he likes it…

Finally, I open the case and show him the concealed machine gun parts, "Jonny gave it to me for free. I hope ya like it…"

He cracks a smile as he leans forward, "Oh, Harley… you're so good- so _**good**_ to me."

Curiosity prickles my skin and I work up the nerve to ask one question, "Mistah J, are you my boyfriend?"

I expect the laughter that ensues, but not the dark note that underlies it, "Harley, baby… what did I say yesterday, hmm? About asking questions?"

"No questions asked. But, that was only for the machine gun."

He rolls his neck and chuckles softly, "Ooh, you've got me there. I enjoy that… that you've got balls enough to challenge me… to challenge the boss daddy of Gotham's criminal city."

"Is that your official title?" I tease delicately.

His smile stretches wider still, exposing the full glory of his silver-capped smile, "Oh, darling… you're quite good at this. No, not officially. Officially, I'm known under many… names. The Clown Prince of Crime, the Harlequin of Hate, the 'Clowned' King, the Jokester, the Smile of Death, the Boss, the Killing Joke, the Grinning King, and Gotham's King of Crime as some examples of my personal favorites."

"That's a lot of aliases for a man who doesn't remember his name," I realize too late I've overstepped a boundary.

His smile turns deadly, it's toxic poison tainting my attitude immediately. He leans forward, faster than lightning, and snaps, "Careful, doll, or you may just end up… broken."

"Don't you remember, I already am."

"Oh, but didn't you just remind me? My memory is not the best. How does the story go? Oh, Daddy, no! Don't fuck me! Oh, God, Daddy, don't! Oh, Harleen… Harleen… oh, God, HARLEY!" He chuckles and it stings.

"You son of a bitch. I thought you cared about me."

"I do. That's the problem. It's not supposed to be like this. I'm not supposed to care! This is supposed to be easy. A one and done. This should have been simple. This shouldn't be difficult in the least! But it is and it's not fair!" He hangs his head as he inhales deeply.

"J, that's life. It's not fair, it's not easy, but it's so worth it. That's love, too-"

"No! I'm not in love with you, you slut! Don't you see? I used you! I lied and used you to get my way!" He's staring at his lap and his voice cracks.

"J, you don't mean that-"

"Yes I do. I do. I'll prove it to you. You're nothing but a whore to me." My heart shatters in my chest. I feel the burning shrapnel scrape the inside of my chest.

"If that's what you want," I whisper. Inside, I'm hoping he won't take the bait. But, I also know him too well to think that's how this will end.

His hands snap up and I know it's too late. His straightjacket falls to the ground as he stands. He walks to my side and murmurs, "Good. At least I'll get some enjoyment from you before discarding you like the trash you are." I ache at his words, but I stare him in the eye. I am stronger than his words.

He pushes me against the table and takes off his clothes. I take my clothes off gently, wanting to preserve my cute outfit, at least. If my dignity, trust, and love are all going to hell… at least I'll have petty physical things to make me momentarily happy.

J's hips grind into mine, his hard shaft rubbing against my core. I'm unhappy, but my body reacts instantaneously at his touch. I grow wet and he chuckles, 'whore', before lining up with my center. He moves my legs, wrapping them around his waist, and then penetrates me.

I hate it, but it's earth-shattering. I moan, grasping his forearms and digging my nails in. He hisses and shoves into me harder, "Good girl, baby." He moves my legs to his shoulders so he can go in harder, hitting the back of me and pulling out only to do it again.

He moves in and out of me, eliciting moans to pull from my throat, "Oh, J! Oh, God, J, don't STOP!" He grunts, pushing into me, "Oh, J! Harder, harder, faster! Oh, faster! Oh, J!"

"That's right, Harley! Oh, Pumpkin, you're so fucking tight! Who's your daddy?"

"Oh, J! You're my Daddy! Oh, Daddy, don't stop! **DON'T** _ **STOP! OH,**_ _ **DADDY!**_ "

J moves like no one ever before, pushing me to orgasm. His balls slapping against my wet skin, adding unneeded stimulation to the mix. I scream as my walls tighten around him, still bouncing up and down on his cock.

He moves my legs back to his waist and carries me to the wall. His pale, slender fingers grip my thighs, bending my leg until my knees are against the wall behind me. _**Thank God for gymnastics.**_ He pounds into me relentless and merciless in his pursuit for his own climax. My walls tighten around him again as he groans, "Oh, Harley!" It may be my imagination, but I think I hear him murmur, "I love you."

"Puddin'," I moan as his hot seed fills me again and again. He chuckles, before pulling out of me. He throws his shirt at me and moves to the case on the table.

"Clean yourself up," he dresses in his boxers and pants before popping open the case. He grabs two of the three parts of the gun, snapping them together and attaching the third before I even comprehend just how he did it. He growls down at me before whistling, loud and piercing.

I dress as quickly as possible after cleaning myself up with his shirt. I hear the thud of heavy footsteps walking back and forth at lightning speed outside the door. And then, I know why the guards didn't look at the case.

They knew… They fucking knew.

I hear rapid gunfire as men barrel into the room in assorted ridiculous costumes. J signals at me and men grab me and drag me away as J walks out of the room and opens fire. The men shove me into a room that I've never been in. I know immediately that everything is wrong. This is one of the rooms I refused to enter.

Electroshock therapy is barbaric and cruel. I refuse to use that method on any patient. No matter what the case. And now, the very therapy I hate the most is going to be used on me. Twisted. Demented. I should have expected no less.

I bucked against the straps of the table as the men joke to each other about what they all wanted to do to me… but 'too bad, 'cause Mr. J wants her for 'imself.' I scream at them, trying to hold back the tears. As anger worms it's way into my system, that at least becomes easier.

Unfortunately, heartbreak isn't as easy to overcome.

But they had warned me, hadn't they? He's dangerous, Harleen. Be careful, Harleen. But _**no!**_ I can handle him, I promise. He's just another guy, though. I should have fuckin' expected this. He seduced me into believing- honestly believing- that he loved me. I should have known.

Broken promises all over again… Dammit, why the hell am I so weak?

And even though I know this, it stills sends a shiver down my spine when I hear it, "Oh, what do we have here?"

* * *

A/N:

So sorry for the wait! I had homecoming dance and football game, and just a lot of shit period going on. I'm _**not**_ sorry for the cliffhanger, but I do kinda feel bad… Anyway, thank you all so much for the amazing responses I got since my last update!

Song for this chapter is as the title and song lyrics in the chapter imply: Pierce the Veil's 'Bulletproof Love', which I recommend everyone goes and listens to now!

Today, I have 11 reviews from October 2nd to the present (October 11th). Thank you so much, and I hope you guys liked this chapter and its length as much as I enjoyed writing it! It is longer than all of my previous chapters! Hooray!

Now, new challenge. If I get twenty reviews, the fifth chapter will be just as many pages! Good luck, and thank you!

XO ~ Puddin's


	5. Chapter 5- I'm SO Sorry Shattered

Chapter 5- Shattered

A/N: Okay, I normally wouldn't do this... But I have a lot going on…

It really hurts me that I have to do this. I am going to be taking a break from fanfiction. I don't know for how long this will last. I have major author's block right now and I have personal shit going on on top of it. Chapter 5 was in the works and I'm just stuck. You can review and give me ideas if you want to speed up this process, but... yeah. Here is what I have so far as a little... preview or whatever. Again, I am so sorry.

* * *

I growl, stilling against the straps, "So whaddya gonna do now, Mistah J, huh? Ya gonna kill me?"

"What?" he questions as he comes forward. He smiles down at me. The smile turns to a snarl as he shoves the overhead light forward to swing nearer my face. It blinds me for a moment as I squint, before it clears and he chuckles. I hear a few clicks as the machine is turned on and the power is turned up. He speaks as he steps closer with the two handles at the ready in his hands, "Oh, I'm not gonna kill ya. I'm just gonna hurt ya- really… really… bad!"

"Oh yeah? Well it doesn't matter, 'cause whatever you're gonna do… I can take it!" He smiles and suddenly a leather belt is snapped above my face before lowering to my mouth. I bite it and stare into the blue eyes of J. He clicks the buttons as I feel him press two things to my temples before…

My…

World…

Shatters…

The electricity powers through my brain and I clench my teeth and eyes shut. The pain lightnings through my being as fingers of heat flutter through me. I lift off the table, my muscles tightening and spasming uncontrollably. He put it on the highest level. He was trying to push me towards insanity again. Towards him.

I want to scream, but my brain is fried. I feel my skin burning at my temples, crisping and peeling. I hear the buzz of the electricity against my skin. I feel myself growing weak, the world burning into black along the edges.

And…

I…

Fall…

Into…

The Rabbit-hole.

My world is over, shattered like glass. My sanity is gone. My consciousness is lost.

Of fucking course…

When I wake, the world is on fire.


	6. Chapter 5- Shattered

Chapter 5- Shattered

A/N: Ok. I'm a little better now. I still have a lot going on. This was most likely a break, but the author's block may have moved on. These next few days and week will tell. So sorry for the long wait and my shitty authoring…

Hey, absence makes the heart grow fonder. Let's see if you guys still love me.

XO ~ Puddin's

* * *

I growl, stilling against the straps, "So whaddya gonna do now, Mistah J, huh? Ya gonna kill me?"

"What?" he questions as he comes forward. He smiles down at me. The smile turns to a snarl as he shoves the overhead light forward to swing nearer my face. It blinds me for a moment as I squint, before it clears and he chuckles. I hear a few clicks as the machine is turned on and the power is turned up. He speaks as he steps closer with the two paddles at the ready in his hands, "Oh, I'm not gonna kill ya. I'm just gonna hurt ya- really… really… bad!"

"Oh yeah? Well it doesn't matter, 'cause whatever you're gonna do… I can take it!" He smiles and suddenly a leather belt is snapped above my face before lowering to my mouth. I bite it and stare into the blue eyes of J. He clicks the buttons as I feel him press the two paddles to my temples before…

My…

World…

Shatters…

The electricity powers through my brain and I clench my teeth and eyes shut. The pain lightnings through my being as fingers of heat flutter through me. I lift off the table, my muscles tightening and spasming uncontrollably. He put it on the highest level. He was trying to push me towards insanity again. Towards him.

I want to scream, but my brain is fried. I feel my skin burning at my temples, crisping and peeling. I hear the buzz of the electricity against my skin. I feel myself growing weak, the world burning into black along the edges.

And…

I…

Fall…

Into…

The Rabbit-hole.

My world is over, shattered like glass. My sanity is gone. My consciousness is lost.

Of fucking course…

When I wake, the world is on fire.

* Harley*

I look around myself, feeling the heat but unable to find the source. Suddenly, my attention is snapped in another direction as I hear a cry. It sounds… like a child. I go towards the sound and I find a blond baby. It looks like a female baby Joker. I lift her gently out of the green crib and bring her to me, "Shh, shh, Jessie. You're okay, Baby Doll. Daddy'll be home soon."

"Harley, sweetheart-"

"See, Doll, he's home." I bounce the baby on my hip as I walk to the living room, "You picked Joey up, didn't you J?"

"Mommy!" a blond child flings himself at my legs, arms reaching upwards desperately. I smile and lean forward. I look up at the last second as I kiss the father of my children. He has black hair with green streaks and a silver-capped eyetooth that flashes with his smile before his lips land on mine. The little boy groans and makes a gagging sound and I smile again, pulling away from the man of my dreams: Joker.

I hand him Jessie and lean down to pick up my son, "Alright munchkin, how was school?" I hear J making noises at Jessie as he walks around the room with her, setting down his briefcase.

"It was fun! We learned about photosinesis."

"Photo _ **syn-**_ _ **the**_ _ **-**_ sis, sweetie. What can you tell me about it?"

"Plants make food so they can grow using sunlight."

"That's right," I gush, holding out my hand, "High five, big boy!" With a giggle, Joey slaps his palm against my own. I throw him in the air and catch him, before shoving my nose playfully into his neck. I tickle him and finally chuckle, "Did you tell Daddy?"

"Yeah, mommy. He thought it was so cool!"

I look over and J is sitting on the couch, Jessie fast asleep on his chest. I smile and bring Joey over to sit next to J. Joey strokes Jessie's fuzzy head, murmuring, "I love you, Jessie. You're such a good baby sister."

A warm feeling spreads through me as I look at my family. But then- _**Baby… Oh, Mistah J… J… Harley… Puddin'... Harley Quinn…**_ I shake my head, clearing my thoughts. J looks at me and he murmurs in confusion, "You alright, Pumpkin?"

I nod, eyebrows creased in thought. I sigh and lean backwards, stretching slowly. My lips and throat feel dry as I croak, "I'm exhausted. My brain feels fried."

As I say the words a flood of thoughts and feelings shove their way through my being. _**This isn't reality, Harls. C'mon, Harley. SNAP OUT OF IT!**_

And then, with a jolt of cold water… I do.

*Harley*

I feel the splash and I sit up, gasping for air. I look around and blood rushes to my head, forcing me to lay back for a moment. I slowly look around and sit up gently, "Wh- what happened?" I'm in a car with heavily tinted windows. I can't see out of them and I know instinctually that no one can see in them. I'm facing one of the windows.

I hear a voice behind me, "You woke up. Good. Welcome back, my sweet Pumpkin Pie."

I turn slowly and freeze. His smile is… different. Not as harsh and cold as before. But it's not as harm and loving as the- And then it hits me.

"Oh no…" I mutter softly.

"What? What's wrong?"

I shake my head, tears slowly brimming in my eyes, "No, no… No… It was perfect. _**We**_ were perfect…"

"Harley. Harley, baby, what do you mean?"

"I-I saw… And we… we had kids. Two of 'em. And they were so sweet and innocent and pure and _**US**_. And… and now I'm here and you hate me and it… It's not the same. It'll never be the same because we're not normal and… oh, J!" I'm sobbing hard. My entire body shakes with the bone-aching pain and power of my cries.

I feel a strong pair of arms and I slowly lean back into them before ripping forward violently. I curl into a ball on the soft, leather seat. He clears his throat uncomfortably, "Harley, I'm not good at comforting. I'm not good at all that warm and fuzzy type stuff. But I-"

"You hate me, Joker. You wanna use me. I'm surprised I'm alive. And… you got your car all wet for me, what the hell? I thought you loved your stuff-"

"Not my car. I have it for this break-out and then I'm dumping it. I don't keep my getaway cars; they're too easy to track."

I feel numb. It slowly wraps its blank, grey arms around my mind. It muffles the world and shows me what could have been. It then points out what is. The pain follows, bittersweet and angry, and pokes and prodes at my brain. _**Silly, stupid little girl. He doesn't love you, see? He never did and he never will.**_

The numb takes over slowly again, warning off the pain with a few words. _**Oh, stop. Not her fault he's so devious and conniving. Not her fault he has her wrapped around his pinky.**_

The numb tastes foul. It takes over my entire being, my very essence. It takes over my life, my mind, my heart. It protects me; it builds careful brick walls with barbed wire poking out of the cracks in the mortar and topping my walls. It shields and destroys with one move.

I feel empty, like I'm floating in space without a tether. This cold numbness and bitter emptiness consumes me and leaves me a broken doll with one too many defenses left over. No one can hurt me. No one can love me. No one can touch me. No one… No one…

 _ **N**_

 _ **o**_

 _ **O**_

 _ **n**_

 _ **E**_

 _ **C**_

 _ **a**_

 _ **N**_

 _ **Sa…**_

 _ **Ve…**_

 _ **MeEe…**_

This hurting empty. This broken numb. I'm a conflicted ball of nothingness in a shattered doll.

I never knew feeling empty and numb could hurt so badly.


	7. Chapter 6- This Little Murderer

Chapter 6- This Little Murderer

A/N: _**Violence warning.**_ Sorry it took me so, so, so long to update. I'm trying. I've had… a lot to put it simply. Longest yet, I believe.

XO ~ Puddin's

* * *

I stretched and stopped. Fear pounded through my veins as I realized I was not at home. I was in an unfamiliar home. I looked around for a weapon, or anything to help me get my bearings. I was on a king size bed, with soft, red covers and black and gold sheets. The heavy comforter felt good against my bruised skin. I stood up, pulling back the covers slowly. I walked around the large gold and dark silver-greyish room.

I opened up the black dresser and found two knives and a pistol in the top drawer. Men's clothes in a variety of colors lay in the drawer. Anger bubbled under my skin as I realized where I must be.

Joker's home.

Joker's room.

I heard the lock click on the door. I pulled out both weapons and closed the drawer softly. I walked forward towards the door and stood with the gun pointed at the door. I cocked back the hammer, turned the safety off, and waited. A shaky, pale man walked in. I kept the gun trained on him as he looked around before his eyes landed on me.

He gulped loudly and opened his mouth. I cut him off, "Take me to Joker and I'll think about sparing ya life." My accent was out in full. I growled at the man as he stuttered.

I stepped forward and he trembled, taking a step back. He pulled out a gun of his own, a machine gun that had been concealed behind the door. I snarled ferally and leaped forward. I did a cartwheel and knocked the gun out of his hand with my foot. I slid under his legs and pulled one knife to his neck. The other was slipped into my ponytail earlier. I dropped the expensive, obviously custom pistol and pulled the machine gun towards me with my foot. I lifted it by the handle with my bare toes and handed it to my open hand.

I looked down at the pistol. It had an engraved jester on it's barrel, as well as cards and "JOKER" emblazoned on the handle. In anger, I turned the machine gun and fired off one shot at the pistol. I leaned forward, ignoring the smoking floor and gun, and whispered, "Joker. Now."

"O-ok," the man finally stuttered out. He pointed to my right and I pushed him that way. He lead me to Joker's office. I smiled at the man, pushing him against the wall. I leaned forward and brushed my mouth against the shell of his ear.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" The man cleared his throat and nodded yes. I moved towards his lips. I smiled, looking him dead in the eyes, "Good. At least you'll enjoy what ya see last."

I slid the knife blade across his neck in one swift motion. Blood sprayed across my chest and I stepped back with a snarl on my lips. I pushed Joker's door open angrily. I screamed one word as I entered, "JOKER!"

The cigar fell out of his lips and the slutty looking stripper froze with her hand reaching towards it. The flame on her lighter went out. Shock on her face, and terror. She didn't even know me yet and she knew what I was capable of. Good.

On his face: joy. A tentative smile stretched across his red lips, "Harley! Baby! You've woken up! Oh dear… you offed Phil. I was just beginning to like him, too. Damn."

"You fucking monster. You- you," I tumbled over my words and he cut me off with a wave of his hand.

"Heard it all before, sweetheart. Caroline, darling, I would get out of here if I favored my life. She's gonna kill you if you don't. I can see it in her eyes. You're just as much of a monster as I am, Harley. You're just as cruel, just as… beastly."

I snarled as I took a step forwards. The stripper, in black and pink, lacey lingerie, turned to the other door. I smirked and threw the bloody knife as she ran at it. A wet thud followed a shrill scream that ended in a gurgle. I stalked over to Joker and spat, "I'm nothing like you."

"You just proved yourself wrong, Harls."

"I took care of your… pest problem. You kill for fun-"

"And anger. You just murdered in blind anger," he leaned forward slowly, "You're gorgeous in red. It really is your color." He slid a finger over my chest, catching a droplet of blood before it slid into my cleavage. He smeared it delicately and I snapped. I grabbed his wrist and spun. I caught his ankle in a sweep of my leg, taking him off his feet. Using his wrist, I flung him over my shoulder. The added momentum from moving myself took him clear across the room.

He coughed hard as he lay on the floor with his legs against the wall. He slid down, righting himself, "Good God, gorgeous… You're powerful. I like it. You're gonna wreak havoc on this city, right by my side."

"No," I panted, "I'm gonna kill you, and get out." I stepped over the overturned spinning chair, and stopped. He yawned, hand dramatically over his mouth, as he held the knife. I smirked. _**Oh, joy. He has no idea what I can do.**_

I lunged forward, running, and spun, my years of gymnastics taking over. As I landed, I shot my leg out, wrapping his wrist. I twisted and the knife fell. I stomped down on the knife blade, keeping it safely away from his grasp. He grabbed my calf, slick with blood, and pulled. I didn't budge. I turned, the knife going with my leg, and roundhouse kicked him in the jaw.

He grabbed his jaw, rubbing it lightly. I smirked and leaned forward. He shivered, leaning towards me as well. I rubbed my hand through my hair with a smile. I kept what I pulled out of my hair hidden.

I pressed my lips delicately to his and felt more than heard his rumbling moan slide through me. I bit his lip and shivered with him. Pleasure swept through me. I dragged my hands through his thick, green hair. One of his hands went to my waist, the other went to my butt. He squeezed. I dropped one hand to his shoulder and pulled back…

Just as I placed the second knife I had to his throat, "What happens now, Mistah J? How ya gonna pull out of this?" I pressed the knife in lightly.

"I won't," he said quietly, staring me in the eyes. I smiled triumphantly at him and opened my mouth to agree with him but he cut me off. "You'll let me go, because you know I can offer you the world. You know I _**will**_ offer you the world, because that's what you mean to me. The world. This city. The entire planet, the entire population on it, everything. You are my world, my everything, Harley."

My lips twitch up and a chuckle comes from my throat unlike anything I've heard from myself. It reminds me of… him. I step closer, lips an inch from J's, "You're crazy, clown. Why would I believe you?"

He leans forward, the knife pressing dangerously against his tender skin on his neck, "Because I can prove it, Harls."

Now I'm intrigued, but irritated. I step back, making sure to keep the knife against his neck. I know that getting him in this position again would be difficult. I snap, "How the fuck ya gonna do that, Mistah J?"

"Put the knife down, Pumpkin," he says softly. He steps after me, the knife drawing a thin line of dark red from him. He winces and stares me in the eye as he pleads, "Please, Harley. I promise, I'm not mad. I just want to show you how much you mean to me."

I think momentarily. _**What will it hurt? If he kills me, it's done and I know my worth to him. Let's see how far this clown will go for a lady he wants to call his own.**_ I sigh, "You want me, Mistah J?"

The answer is instantaneous, "Always."

I pull back the knife and he lunges immediately. He spins me, pulling my hair, and shoves me against the wall. He has his body pressed to mine. He moves his hand from my hair to my throat, squeezing just enough that I can feel the pressure of his hand. With his other hand, he wipes the red from his neck, "Sticky business, dealing with you, huh? Now, Harley, you've been naughty. You killed a man and a whore that I owned. I want repayment. You can be the fill-in for the dead whore. But go talk to Johnny and find another man. You're lucky. I really do want you around. Otherwise, you would be dead. Any other person would be at this point. Harley, I want you. I need you. But I need you to be… similarly aligned in certain cases. Understand, Pumpkin Pie?"

I growl, shoving further against him, "I understand, Mistah J, but I gotta know… Am I really worth the trouble? Or am I fun for you until you find the next."

He loosens his hand and dips to brush his blood-red lips against mine. He pulls my ponytail loose and looks at the waves for a moment. Then he murmurs softly, "There has never been another, no next. I have not felt this way _**ever**_ that I can remember. Harley, you… you've woken something in me that I have never felt. That right there… me feeling? That's special. That answer enough, my little Harlequin?"

My heart pounds frantically at the memory of his lips. I'm so screwed. I push my lips to his again, "Yes."

"Good," is his response. He sighs and pulls back from me, "Harley… one more thing…"

"What is it, J?"

"I lied. I'm leaving. Now. And you're not coming with."

"But-"

"Shut the fuck up, ok? You're not currently worth it and I have things to do, take care of. Understand, whore?" He's so bipolar it's hard to tell which lie is the truth. He moves, grabbing things off his desk and whipping out a burner phone, "Johnny. We go up in five. Prepare the cars… Yes, of course… No, the girl stays here… Yes, I know, Johnny… Oh, I plan on it."

Joker cackles and glances back at me, "Catch ya later, Pumpkin, if you're lucky." He exits the room and leaves me dumbfounded.

I sit in silence, listening to the movement in the warehouse before the world goes blank. No motion, no noise, there is nothing. My hands curl in and out of fists. The world starts burning around the edges and something in me catches fire. I snap, standing up in anger and grabbing the knife from under my boot. I want J.

I find the garage easily enough and pick out a purple motorcycle. The keys are conveniently in the ignition. Time to find the fire. I see a pistol in the driver's seat of a car next to me. I shrug, grabbing that as well.

I follow the tire tracks and burnt rubber from careless drivers until I catch up to the purple lamborghini that I know holds my headache. My tires squeal as I speed up and whip in front of the extremely extra car. The motorcycle grinds on the pavement as I stand on top of it until it comes to a stop. Joker has the car stop inches from me.

"Get out the feckin' car, J!" I scream.

He shakes his head and I hear a bang as he thumps it against his window. He comes out of the car as I walk towards his door, "Harley, do you not understand no?"

"No, I don't! Probably 'cause I spent one too many weeks with your ass."

My heart pounds as he steps closer. On impulse, I pull out the pistol and level it at his forehead. He laughs uproariously and his head goes back. I press my lips together, "I'm serious, J. I will shoot you. You have done nothing but lie and cheat your way out of every situation with me. I'm done. I gave you everything in Arkham. Everything you wanted. And what do I get in return? Lies. Why is it so hard to accept that I love you-"

His head snaps forward and he presses it to the barrel, "Hush, hush, hush. Don't say that… that. I don't wanna hear it."

"You'd rather die than accept that you're loved by me?"

"A thousand times over, baby doll."

I shake my head and pull back the hammer. His smile spreads as I see a semi pull up behind us. The semi honks as J raises his hands to either side, "C'mon, Harley. C'mon, do it. Do it." His hips move back and forth enticingly to each side.

"Hey! Move your car, dumbass!" I see the man walking towards us, "Continue your lover's spat elsewhe- Hey! You've got a gun!"

J moves backwards, turning to the man, "Yeah, now isn't a great time, buddy. Go away, we'll be done in a minute."

"I'm calling the police!"

J shakes his head, "Not a good ide-"

I shoot the man in the chest and he slumps to the pavement. J turns back to me, "I tried to tell him." J shrugs and leans into the barrel again.

He stares me in the eyes, "Ya gonna shoot me, Harls? C'mon, baby doll. Show me whatcha got."

I pull back the hammer again and wrestle with my thoughts. _C'mon, Harley, shoot him! No, don't you feckin' dare! Let him prove himself to you… When has he ever been trustworthy? Harley, Harley, Harley-_

Joker claps in my face, "C'mon!" The pistol leaves my hand as he grabs it and spins it back at me with a sigh. He runs an impatient hand through his hair. He looks back up at me, where I stand staring at him waiting for the next move, "You're so stubborn. Fine, get in. We're going somewhere special."

He pulls down the pistol and walks to the car. I follow and get in on the other side. And then he takes off. He drives faster than legal, but what else is to be expected from a gangster? The dark underside of Gotham shines and blurs by the car windows. We pull up to an abandoned warehouse and he stops and looks at me, "Welcome to my birthplace."

I'm confused but I follow Joker into the building. He flicks a switch and a few lights come on, but not all of them. We climb a series of stairs and stop. He points to the edge of a large, metal platform and I walk forward. I look down into six bubbling vats of acid, "This is where I was created."

I turn around and I know what he wants me to do. I step forward, away from the edge, and he walks towards me slowly, almost predatory in his gaze, "Would you die for me?"

My answer is instant, "Yes."

"No, that's too easy," He backs away, pacing for a moment. He looks up and stops in front of me, "Would you-" He looks down at my lips, hesitant, then shakes his head and looks back up, "Would you live for me?"

"Yes," I know that every word I say is true. I know that this, more than anything, this right here with him, is what I want.

He shakes his head with a smile and covers it with his tattooed hand impression before uncovering it again, stepping dangerously close. He holds up a finger to my lips, "Careful… Do not say this oath… Thoughtlessly… Desire becomes surrender, surrender becomes power." He pulls down my bottom lip then trails his hand down to cup my chin, "Do you want this?"

"I do."

The smile again, so irresistible, "Say it, say it, say it… Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty-"

"Please?"

He rolls his head back and looks at me, "God you're so… good." He steps away from me and holds his hands out for my performance. I step to the edge and glance down. One problem… I can't swim.

I turn around and look at him. That smile… I put my arms out to each side and…

I fall into madness freely, with no regrets. The splash falls gracefully upwards as I hit the acid. The impact smacks into my head, hard, and all I see is black as I sink. I feel panic in my chest as I realize how much is in these vats of liquid fire that tingles and burns scratches into my being. _You're gonna die, Harls._ That's my last thought before the world closes off.

* * *

*Joker*

 _Good riddance._ I think as I watch Harley fall backwards into my creator. _She's not strong enough to survive that. I barely was. I was lucky the vat burst or I would've drowned._

I turn away, satisfied, as I hear the splash that means my headache's life is ending. A whisper rises in the corner of my mind: _But she could be useful. She's flexible… expendable. You need a girl like that. It would be helpful to have one linked so closely with you that she can't escape._

I shake my head, angry at the thoughts that make sense. Then again, more release into my mind. This time, thoughts that don't make sense but push me forward nonetheless: _You love her. You need her. Save her. Go._

I shake my head, grinding my teeth. I catch my lip on the silver grill and hesitate one beat. I turn, ripping off my jacket. _She better be worth it._

I dive back into the open arms of my once mother, the acid. I drag the paling lady up to the surface, not even distracted by the drifting colors of red and blue in the acid around us. I kiss her, feeling her cool lips against my burning ones. I breathe into her and she wakes, kissing me briefly. Then she pulls back, looking at me with those breath-taking baby blues all wide and innocent. She smiles, her skin pale and her blond hair blonder still. Those baby blues go dark in a way that makes me ecstatic and sends a jolt of electricity through my core.

I throw back my head, laughing, knowing. I created the perfect little monster to match me step for step. This little murderer is gonna bring Gotham to its knees with me.

* * *

*Harley*

He saved me. That's all that matters as I look into the eyes of the crazy man that I love unconditionally.


End file.
